


Never Fret None

by Drarry_Scarred



Series: Wicked Are We [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Final Battle, Hozier, M/M, Work Song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-10
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3324353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarry_Scarred/pseuds/Drarry_Scarred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Battles rage on, oblivious and uncaring to one man's pursuit, but to that man, his pursuit is everything. He will fight through Heaven and Hell to get to the one thing that matters most, the one thing that is everything to him, and in the end, that one thing will be all that matters. That one thing is everything...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Fret None

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been bugging me to write it for awhile, so here it is. It's completely inspired from the song. The song in here is Work Song by: Hozier. I changed some of the pronouns to fit the situation, but besides that it's word for word in here. It's my favorite song by them, and you should really go look it up if you haven't heard it. Hozier, too. And since I'm such a nice person, I'll even give you a URL for it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fkL6wR0xghA
> 
> Warning: I put this as Teen and Up, but it does have some cussing and is set in a battle, so there's violence. I didn't feel like it needed a higher rating, but just in case...be aware of that. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I claim to. I make no profit from this. It is merely for fun. I don't own Hozier or Work Song, either, nor do I claim to. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! :) Feedback is always welcome, too!

**~.~**

_Boys, working on empty,_

_Is that the kind of way to face the burning heat?_

The sun is all encompassing. Beating down on them steadily like a drum. Sweat drips from bodies, falling into eyes, and clinging cloth to skin. It persists, but no one notices. No one pauses in their acts to acknowledge the all consuming heat. Its unimportant in the face of the battle. In the face of the blood shed. In the face of fallen foes and friends, surrounded by gore, and aching deep inside. No one acknowledges the heat. Its just a small nuisance compared to the despair that surrounds them.

A blonde runs through the battle, no longer engaging, and ignoring his injuries. He runs, and he sweats, and he pants. The only one to notice the burning heat. His silver eyes are sharp, filled with fear and worry. His pain at his lost loved ones pushed away, one thought resounding in his head. One thought...him. He has to find him.

He ducks under a jet of green light. It misses him by centimeters. Dodging a mass of bodies fighting and killing for pride or love. No one knows or cares. In the end it’s the same thing. Blood and death...blood and death...blood and death. He inhales sharply as he sees him in the distance. Black hair falling into fiery green eyes that rival the persistent heat. Sweat clinging his shirt to his body. He’s so close...so close, but the battle rages on between them. Dodging and ducking. Moving and ignoring the pain. Avoiding looking at the faces of the fallen...the faces of the fighting, he runs. One thought resounds loudly, a steady beat that keeps him moving: He has to get to him.

_I just think about my baby,_

_I’m so full of love I could barely eat,_

His stomach churns in a wave of nausea as he drops to the ground to avoid being hit with a stray spell, landing directly on a body of a fallen fighter. Before he can stop himself he looks...Oh god, he looks. A strangled scream leaves his throat as he rolls off the body of his friend. Someone he’s known his whole life. _Oh god, Blaise. I’m so sorry._ He thinks as he lunges to his feet and runs. He doesn’t glance back. He can’t glance back. Blaise didn’t deserve to die. He was stuck between the wants of his parents. Trying to please both and failing at each turn, and now he lays fallen on a battlefield, blood seeping from a wound, flesh growing cold...His blood is on their hands, and Blaise didn’t deserve it...He just didn’t.

Running towards the distance figure of his lover, one thought penetrates his sorrow. A mantra repeated over and over. One word. Harry, Harry, HarryHarryharryharryharry….

_There’s nothing sweeter than my baby,_

_I’d never want once from the cherry tree,_

He’s all that matters. He has to get to him. He’s all he has left. His mother fell to the Dark Lord’s anger hours ago. His father dead for at least a year now. His friends fighting for the wrong side. He’s all he has. He’s all he needs. He needs to get to him. He drops to the ground rolling through mud barely avoiding a stunner. Lungeing to his feet he dodges an order member, ignoring the familiar face of his cousin. How can she be fighting? Her baby left at home. Please don’t let her die...

Harry’s just ahead. Just a few feet. Almost there. _Omph!_ The air rushes out of his lungs as he’s tackled from behind. Mud filling his vision. He struggles and fights. Pulling his head up enough to see Harry just ahead. Harry looking determined and facing off with that... _thing_. Harry...

_‘Cause my baby’s sweet as can be,_

_He’d give me tooth aches just from kissing me._

He struggles against the body on his back. Fighting against a dead weight. Fighting to get them off. He realizes the body isn’t moving and freezes. He wasn’t tackled. He was hit with the dead. Someone was struck dead and fell on him. Panic rears its head. Clawing at his throat. Constricting his lungs. He can’t do this. He can’t do this. Oh, God… But he has to. Harry. Harry needs him. He finds purchase in the mud, and shoves with all his might. The body tumbles off him, and he’s on his feet. Sliding and struggling to stay upright.

He finds his balance and looks forward...He looks forward in time to see Harry fall. Harry fall. Harry fall. Disbelief. Numb disbelief as that green light strikes his lover in the chest. He’s all he has. He can’t be gone. No. The Dark Lord’s laugh cuts through the air. His laughter breaks through the noise of the battle. Offsetting. Unsettling. It cuts through the noise and chaos, rendering it null. Everyone stops and looks. Everyone sees the deranged man stand over the fallen boy laughing. Everyone sees the blonde boy, sliding and slipping through mud, fall at their Saviour’s side….their _fallen_ Saviour’s side. Everyone sees the blonde boy break, and no one moves. No one makes a sound. No one believes what they see.

_When my time comes around,_

_Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth,_

_No grave can hold my body down,_

_I’ll crawl home to him._

He saved him. He brought him back from the edge of a black abyss. He was the light at the end of the tunnel. He was the brightness in the darkness that tried to eradicate his life. He can’t be gone. He can’t be…

Draco falls to the ground by a limp body, looking small and fragile as it lays sprawled in the mud. He grips it’s shoulders and shakes him. He screams his name, and anything he can think of to say. He begs and pleads. He peppers the cooling face with kisses. He lets the tears fall, oblivious to the silent battle field watching in dawning horror. Oblivious to the Dark Lord, feet away, watching with a glint of amusement in his cold, red eyes.

_Boys, when my baby found me,_

_I was three days on a drunken sin,_

Oh God, he saved me. He stopped me with a blade to my wrist. He kept me from falling into the abyss, and I couldn’t save him...couldn’t save him...He clings to the body, begging him to wake up. To open his eyes. To say something...anything...

_I woke with his walls around my,_

_Nothing in his room but an empty crib._

He fixed him. He fixed him inside and out. He made him better, while all he did in return was taint him with his presence. Harry nursed him back from the edge, while he just watched him fall. He hauls the limp body up to his chest, Harry’s head lolling back unnaturally. Please wake up...

_And I was burning up a fever,_

_I didn’t care much how long I live,_

He’s everything. He’s everything, and he’s gone. His body’s a shell. He’s empty. The Dark Lord’s laugh pierces the still air. The only sound accompanying it in the eerie silence, are the sobs of a broken boy clinging to the last remains of his everything...everything...

_But I swear I thought I dreamed him,_

_He never asked me once about the wrong I did._

The Dark Lord’s voice sends a shiver down the watching crowd’s spines, Dark and Light alike. “Well, isn’t this fitting,” He hisses in an amused drawl. “A lowly traitor clinging to the body of the Light’s dead Saviour. Yes, fitting indeed.”

The voice floats past Draco’s mind. The words mean nothing. There is nothing. The Dark Lord’s victory speech floats past his ears, never penetrating. The silky words slide past. The silky words mean nothing. Draco is wrapped in cotton. A shell of nothing. He feels nothing. He sees nothing. He hears nothing. He is nothing.

_When my time comes around,_

_Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth,_

_No grave can hold my body down,_

_I’ll crawl home to him._

Draco sits at the feet of the Dark Lord as he drones on, the body of the only one who mattered cradled in his lap. Through the numbness, one realization forms. One sentence, repeating through his mind. One fact that he can’t escape.

He utters it quietly. Then louder. Finally loud enough to cut the Dark Lord off mid-word. Loud enough to draw his eyes and the eyes of the watching crowd.

“You killed him.”

_When my time comes around,_

_Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth,_

_No grave can hold my body down,_

_I’ll crawl home to him._

The Dark Lord looks down, slightly perplexed and very annoyed from the interruption. “Yes, Draco. We’ve been over this.” He replies, rather patronizingly.

Anger courses through Draco in hot waves. Red hot anger. Rage like he’s never felt before. He gently lays Harry on the ground and stands up. His fists are clenched tightly, a white knuckled grip on his wand. Anger wracks his frame in waves.

_My babe would never fret none,_

_About what my hands and my body done._

"You fucking killed him,” He hisses at the Dark Lord. The venom in his voice surprising everyone. Without thinking twice, Draco slashes his arm through the air, “ _Sectumsempra_ ,” Leaving his lips in a hiss of air.

The Dark Lord stairs in shock at the wound severing his chest diagonally. He watches dumbfounded as red blood seeps slowly, before coming in gushes, painting his robe a macabre red. The gathered crowd inhales as one, but is too shocked to move.

_If the Lord don’t forgive me,_

_I’d still have my baby and my babe would have me._

Everyone stands frozen in shock, the Dark Lord and Draco included. No one had ever thought to even attempt an attack on the Dark Lord. It was only Harry. Always Harry. The silence persists, until it’s broken. A sharp intake of breath, a rattling cough, a broken word, “Draco?”

Spinning in shock everyone turns to see a very much alive Harry Potter staggering to his feet.The Dark Lord hisses in anger, recovered from his unsubtle bout of shock, “What isss the meaning of thissss?” His words are slurred in his anger. “Why are you not dead?”

_When I was kissing on my baby,_

_And he’d put his love down soft and sweet,_

Harry ignores the seething Dark Lord, and pulls Draco into a short kissed. Filled with passion and relief. At the angry exhale of air next to them, they break apart turning to face a Dark Lord raising his wand, the killing curse of his lips. Reacting without thinking, Harry lunges and tackles the Dark Lord to the ground, like in Muggle rugby. He grabs the first thing his fingers wrap around, a large, sharp rock. The Dark Lord dies like a muggle. His skull bashed in from nothing magical. Blood and brains seeping out. In Harry’s eyes its a fitting ending.

No one in the crowd moves. No one breathes or speaks. No one fights their enemies or tries to run. They all watch in awestruck, fear-filled silence as a blood speckled Harry Potter drops the crimson soaked rock that killed the darkest wizard of their time, and embraces his lover.

_In the low lamp light I was free,_

_Heaven and Hell were words to me._

Draco is free. He feels it. No more chains that bind him to a master. No more mindlessly following. And Harry is in his arms. Alive and breathing. The Dark Lord dead at their feet, and he rejoices.

_When my time comes around,_

_Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth,_

_No grave can hold my body down,_

_I’ll crawl home to him._

It was the last of a long line of dark days. There was light in the future. He kisses Harry. Rejoices in his love. Breathes him in. He’s everything. Everything. Harry, Harry, Harry…

_When my time comes around,_

It’s over. The battles over. Loved ones were lost, but he’s alive. Harry’s alive.

_Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth,_

He’s free.

_No grave can hold my body down,_

Harry’s free.

_I’ll crawl home to him…_

And it’s everything.

**~Fin~**


End file.
